


god rest ye merry

by nefelokokkygia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nefelokokkygia/pseuds/nefelokokkygia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>let nothing you dismay.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	god rest ye merry

**Author's Note:**

> hetachristmas advent lightning challenge fic, prompt was for gifts + the frying pangle at christmas; in which hungary gets a new frying pan, prussia receives some helpful fashion advice, austria is about 200 years late on a certain memo, and a threesome by the fire is the best present of them all.

“ _Magyarország_ , where did you put _Preußen_ 's gifts?” the Austrian's voice rings out from the bedroom.

“On the shelf in the closet, _Österreich_ ,” Hungary calls back up to him, setting a trio of wine glasses on the dining room table amidst Austria's good china. Twisting the cork off a bottle of champagne from the Nation's cellar ( _I could have sworn I saw this down there while we were married_ , she thinks), the brunette pours the glittering, bubbling, gold-tinged liquid into each of the glasses. Darting back into the kitchen, she peeks into the oven keeping ham and potatoes and vegetables of all kinds warm until the Prussian's arrival. Arranging the cream-colored cloth napkins, Hungary turns to meet Austria as he comes down the stairs with the two wrapped boxes.

“Leave them in the living room under the tree, I hear _Preußen_ 's car in the driveway,” she directs, kissing him on the cheek before nudging the brunet on his way. The doorbell rings as Hungary unlocks the bolt, opening the door and letting the snow-covered Nation inside. Taking the presents out of his hands, Hungary goes to set them under the tree with the others as Austria meets Prussia in the doorway. She hears him making small talk about the long drive, the snow, all the stress he and Germany have been under because of the financial crisis of the European Union; Austria tells the white-haired Nation to not worry about it now, that he is here with them and that's what matters. Hungary peeks her head around the corner to see the brunet hanging up Prussia's coat and scarf in the closet, turning around to find the white-blond's lips cold on his own. The Hungarian is silent, watching with tingling, heated delight as Prussia yanks Austria's hips to his, running a winter-chilled hand through his fluffy brown hair.

“I know you're watching in there, _Magyar_ ,” and the brunette blushes as pink as the Austrian's cheeks when Prussia's red eyes meet her own. “You like what you see,” he grins, as Austria worms his way out of the Nation's hold, straightening his collar.

“As much as we all enjoy the show, _Preußen_ ,” and the former Teutonic Knight snickers, “ _Magyarország_ has dinner waiting for us and I don't think she wants it to go to waste.”

“ _Ja_ ,I just drove five and a half hours to get here, I'm fucking _starving_ ,” the white-blond says as Hungary grabs one each of their hands, guiding them both to the dining room.

“ _Üljetek le_ ,” the brunette tells them both, leaving them to sit as she brings in the dishes she has been preparing all day.

They eat amidst the crackling of the fireplace in the living room, Prussia telling them of his and Germany's constant burial under paperwork and budgeting, how his _Bruder_ is constantly being pulled between his officials and the Union's as they attempt to work out a solution.

“It's gotten so bad that West spends most of his time with the leaders of the Union, and I've taken over nearly all of his duties in his own government,” the white-blond explains. Both Hungary and Austria can see the faint shadows under his eyes and the weariness in his shoulders as he sits.

“It's been a long time since you've had that kind of responsibility, _mézem_ ,” the Hungarian observes, motioning for the champagne bottle and Prussia's nearly-empty glass.

“I haven't quite lost my touch,” the former Knight replies, eyes tired but sparkling in the low light. “I raised West, and he turned out pretty fucking awesome; in other words, just like me.” Prussia gladly accepts the refilled glass, smirking at Austria's own raised brow as the brunet scoffs playfully.

“Now now, boys, no male posturing allowed at the table,” Hungary chides with a smile. “Only _I'm_ manly enough for that kind of behavior.”

“Says the only one at this table without a—”

“ _Preußen! Halt die Klappe_!” Austria exclaims, even though all three of them are laughing into their glasses, fire-warm and full of Hungary's delicious cooking and Austria's hundred-year champagne. Prussia's cheeks are tinged pink with alcohol, laughter loose and mirthful like Austria's, and both Nations kiss her cheeks in thanks for the holiday meal as they clear the table. She follows them to the sink, wiping down the counters and keeping watch over the good china as they banter; Austria rolls up his sleeves and dips his hands in the sudsy water, scrubbing each dish before passing it off to Prussia who wipes them down dry. Their conversation degenerates into rapid-fire German as they work, and though Hungary has lived long enough to speak their mothertongue like her own, she is too liquid with warmth and champagne to follow it. Austria's dialect is an entirely different animal than Prussia's, and while the two of them understand each other without thinking, Hungary leaves them to their language and tosses her towels on the steps to be thrown in the wash later.

When the brunette finishes squaring the leftovers away, she empties the last of the champagne into their glasses and brings them into the living room. Setting them on the bricks of the fireplace, Hungary takes the fuzzy blankets off the couches and spreads them out on the floor in front of the flames. The fresh-cut tree in the corner shines white and glittering, twinkling with thick garland and dotted with ornaments Austria has had before she ever lived with the brunet Nation. Tiny portraits of a younger Italy and the long-lost Holy Roman Empire hang in the middle, ones she remembers Austria having commissioned by his people's most renowned painters after all of them were united under Holy Rome's ruling house.

The Hungarian's musings are interrupted by the German Nations entering the room, sitting down on either side of her and grabbing their champagne, pressing kisses to her cheeks once again.

“I think it's time we opened all of these gifts,” Prussia says, and Austria leans over, pulling the wrapped packages out from beneath the shimmering tree. “And I say we start with this one,” the white-blond snickers, one hand holding the glass and the other hooking a finger in the brunet's belt as Hungary giggles into his shoulder.

“Very funny, _Preußen_ ,” the Austrian drolls, even though a corner of his mouth is upturned as he distributes the presents. “But it's always more interesting to save the best gifts for last,” he quips, brow raised at the Nations next to him. Prussia's red eyes are blood-dark in the firelight, glinting hungry and deep as they meet Austria's violet irises.

“Boys, _presents_ ,” Hungary laughs, tipping off the last of her champagne. Both males set their glasses down, ripping into their gifts from the brunette.

“Scarves? Aw _Magyar_ , you shouldn't have,” the white-blond preens, wrapping a dark plaid one around his neck. “Fuck, are these things cashmere? You _really_ shouldn't have.”

“Oh shut it, _Preußen_ , with the kinds of winters you Germans have in those mountains, you need them,” she tells the two.

“ _Danke schön, Magyarország_ ,” Austria says, both Nations wrapping an arm around the brunette as she hugs them close, grinning ear to ear. Hungary and Prussia tear into theirs from the Austrian next.

“A new frying pan!” the Hungarian exclaims, turning it over, examining it at every angle, testing it weight in her hand and giving it a few good swings in front of her.

“That old one you have has to be at least over a hundred and fifty years old,” Prussia says, pausing in his unwrapping. “It's about time you had a new one.”

“A new one that isn't horribly dented from hitting _someone's head_ for over a century,” Austria snickers.

“Watch it, _Roddy_ , I remember quite a few of those dents were caused by your head as well,” Prussia retorts playfully, and the brunet only sticks his tongue out at the former Knight's use of his human name; he knows that among their kind, such monikers are used only by humans to address Nations and speak of them, a symbolic boundary between human and the divine not-divine that Nations are. For a Nation to address another by their human name is considered insulting or even submissive without the intimacy of closeness, but the three of them have been together for so long that be they human or divine, they are forever One and All and everything in-between.

“A new coat? Are you people trying to tell me I don't know how to dress myself?” Prussia asks, standing up to try the garment on. It is wool, black and heavy to keep him warm, high-collared and styled like the military coats the three of them wore in times before.

“You can't tell me the one you came here in is any better,” Austria answers, “and you've had that old thing forever.”

“You're right,” Prussia admits, “and I hate you for forcing me to say that.” Hungary whacks the white-blond half-heartedly across the shoulder with a giggle.

“It looks wonderful on you, _mézem_ ,” the brunette Nation purrs. “It reminds me of those wonderful military jackets the both of you used to wear, that were so sharp and sleek and made you both look so delicious and I just want to rip that coat off of you and-”

“ _Whoa_ there _Magyar_ , I see you hit the champagne a little too hard earlier,” the former Knight laughs along with Austria, shrugging off the coat and sitting down again, folding it back into the box. “Calm down woman, we'll get there soon,” he teases.

Austria reaches for his own present, shucking off the paper and opening the box to reveal a ruffled length of silky fabric decorated with intricate lace.

“I know how much you like to wear those prissy frilly things everywhere you go,” Prussia quips, “so I figured one more for your little collection wouldn't hurt.” Hungary snickers between them.

“They're called jabots,” Austria corrects him, even though he knows the red-eyed Nation will never call them such, “and I'll have the honor of reminding you that these 'prissy frilly things' once graced your neck too, _Gilbert_.”

“The key word there is _once_ ,” the white-haired Nation retorts. “You're about two hundred years late on that memo,” he smirks, prompting Hungary into another tipsy giggling fit.

“Open your gift, _Magyarország_ ,” the Austrian drolls as he pushes the last gift towards her, shooting Prussia a look that makes him snicker. She tears open the paper, revealing a tiny, cream-colored box. Taking out the black case inside, the Hungarian opens it to reveal a glittering necklace, a triangle of diamonds interlaced in a web of gold and silver. The jewelry sparkles in the glow of the fire, liquid and shimmering in her hands.

“ _Preußen, mézem_ , this is beautiful, where did you find this?” she asks, breathless as the white-blond takes the necklace and secures it around her neck. It falls down her chest, glittering starshine like her eyes, dark and deep and the most beautiful thing Austria and Prussia have ever seen. The Hungarian pulls them both close, tucking her head into the red-eyed Nation's shoulder as she feels their arms around her, holding her, loving her like they have known nothing else.

Hungary presses her lips to Prussia's, tasting stars and champagne and warmth in his kisses, all tongue and teeth and temptation down her spine. The white-blond's hands slide down her arms and to her hips, pulling the brunette onto his lap. She feels Austria's hands on her back, massaging her muscles, kneading her shoulder blades with his fingers, tracing lightning over her skin with his nails beneath her sweater. The Hungarian arches into his touch, feeling his fingers trail up her sides to her neck, kisses ghosting over her jaw, beneath her ear. She presses her hips down onto the Prussian's, easing him to the floor amidst the blankets, undoing the buttons of his shirt and dragging her hands warm down his chest. The German Nation curses softly under his breath, grinding his hips into the heat of Hungary's body as she leans back into Austria's touch.

Prussia growls, sitting up and tugging the hem of her sweater up and over her head, careful of her necklace, tossing the fabric away and burying his face between her breasts, licking and nipping sighs and gasps out of the Hungarian Nation. Austria slides a hand down her stomach, soft and warm in the glow of the fire, yanking her hips into his as he bucks against her; the brunet unhooks her bra with practiced ease as the white-blond pulls it off, one of the Austrian's hands on her breast and the former Knight's mouth on the other. Austria undoes the button of her dark jeans, pulling them and her underwear down her legs as she tugs them the rest of the way off. Hungary rocks down onto Prussia, back into Austria, racing a hand through the latter's hair as her other hand goes for the former's pants.

Not wanting to be the only one missing clothes, she motions for the both of them to remove their trousers, undoing the buckle of Prussia's belt. Tracing her other hand down Austria's stomach behind her, she tugs the loosened fabric off his hips, feeling the sharp cut of his hipbones that she loves to lick, drag her tongue across his skin that makes him shiver. The white-blond shucks his pants and boxers off beneath her, sliding his hands up her thighs, rubbing the sweet spot between her legs that makes her breath hitch and her body tense. Hungary moans low in her throat above him, pulling Austria's tongue and teeth to her neck, tracing her nails through his tousled hair, molding her body to his own.

Prussia's hand between her legs and Austria's lips on her neck have her panting, gasping, aching for more than just the white-blond's fingers and the brunet's kisses. The Hungarian grinds against the Austrian, shifting down on all fours, telling him without words what she wants. Prussia crushes her mouth to his own as she feels Austria lean over her, teeth ghosting her neck as he is suddenly surrounding her, around her, _within_ her. Hungary is grateful for the former Knight's foresight as she drowns her moans in his kisses, Austria statue-still as she adjusts to the feel of him within her body. The brunette buries her nose in the white-blond's neck, feeling his nails trace lightly over her arms and down her sides, both Nations calming her with words too ancient for her to understand.

Hungary arches into Austria's chest, jerking her hips into his to let him know she's alright, and when he nips her neck as he begins to move, the world sparks white and glittering behind her eyes, flickering radiant like the flames in the hearth before them. The brunette's hand splays between Prussia's legs, stroking practiced and quick and the white-blond bucks into her touch, biting back moans and gasps in his throat as he other hands combs through his fluffed hair. The alcohol in their bodies spirals them fast towards the inevitable end, closer, closer, breaths hitched and voices broken amidst the glittering lights and crackling flames. Austria's cries into the Hungarian's neck cease with his movements, hips jerking without rhythm as he crushes her close, body burning lightning through his veins. Hungary isn't finished yet, and the brunet guides her sweat-slicked and hot onto Prussia, holding her steady as his fingers dip between her legs, licking and nipping his way over her shoulder and up her neck, around her jaw. The sight of the brunette's body above his, breasts bouncing and cheeks flushed red, necklace sparkling pinpricks and the Austrian's mouth and hands all over her have the Prussian reeling, clawing his nails into the blankets as he tries not to slip over the edge.

The white-blond can feel her body tightening around him, hears the telltale change in her breathing that lets both German Nations know she's close; Prussia grabs her hips, slamming her body down onto him, meeting her every move with equal measure, waiting for when her hands claw into his shoulders and her eyes open wide, yes, _yes_ , that's it, _Gott im Himmel_ she is _breathtaking_ –

Hungary damn near screams, _ó Istenem, Poroszország, Ausztria_ , curses in Hungarian as old as she is, voice cutting crystal into their ears; she writhes against the Prussian, grinding down onto the Austrian's fingers, pulling each of them as close as she can. The white-blond beneath her finally lets go, fingers clawing into the blankets, drowning his moans in the Hungarian's kisses as the three collapse breathless against one another, sated and sweat-slicked and waiting for the world to right itself beneath them.

The blankets need washing, Austria's glasses are filthy, Hungary's neck is painted red like watercolor, and Prussia fumbles for the remaining champagne on the bricks of the fireplace. Handing one to the panting, flushed Austrian, both Germans clink the glasses together, finishing off the sparkling, gold-tinged liquid and pressing icy kisses to Hungary's cheeks. The brunette wraps an arm around each, holding them close in the warmth of the fire, no greater gift beneath the comforting light of the tree than the love shared endless and infinite between them.

**Author's Note:**

>  _magyarország_ – the hungarian name for 'hungary'.
> 
>  _preußen_ – the german name for 'prussia'.
> 
>  _österreich_ – the german name for 'austria'.
> 
>  _magyar_ – the name referring to the hungarian people and language, and prussia's way of cutely shortening hungary's name in hungarian.
> 
>  _ja_ – german for 'yes'.
> 
>  _üljetek le_ – hungarian for 'sit down', specifically the way of informally telling more than one person to do so; hungarian, like many languages, distinguishes in the written and spoken word between talking to a single person formally and informally, and talking to multiple people formally and informally, making for up to four different ways of saying the same thing, really. in linguistics, this is referred to as the 'ty/vyi distinction' (or some other such variation of the phrase); not all languages do this in all forms, an example being english, but it is a common and often at first confusing aspect of many. as a russian major with a side of german who has also studied japanese, french, and latin, I have become intimately acquainted with many variations of this distinction, some harder and more obnoxious than others! latin has got to be the biggest offender in my book, honestly.
> 
>  _bruder_ – german for 'brother'.
> 
>  _prussia taking over for germany_ – I like to think prussia isn't the lazy freeloader we all love him as and make him out to be, and that he actually helps germany with his duties. and going by the recent european union comics from himaruya, it's safe to say that germany is probably under lots of stress trying to manage so many things at once; so, it sounds like the nice, big-brotherly thing for prussia to take care of things back home when needed, and because he's prussia, do a damn good job of it too.
> 
>  _mézem_ – a hungarian term of endearment meaning 'honey' or 'dear'.
> 
>  _halt die klappe_ – a german idiom meaning 'stuff a cork in it'. a personal favorite of mine.
> 
>  _danke schön_ – german for the more formal 'thank you very much'; for more casual thanks, simply drop the _schön_.
> 
>  _human vs. nation names_ \- it is my headcanon that nations take human names to make it easier for their citizens to feel comfortable communicating with them, because what they are dealing with isn't exactly human. addressing a nation by their full title (country name) when you're not a person of power or entitled to do so in said country is kind of a big no-no, sort of like calling your teacher by their first name instead of mr/mrs x.  
>  also part of my headcanon is that nations never normally address each other by their human names amongst their own kind without permission as a sign of intimacy, or so they forget they aren't human. lastly, to directly call a fellow nation by their human name (especially without their permission) is considered disrespectful/insulting, or potentially even submissive on part of the one doing the addressing (putting themselves in the place of a human, speaking to another nation as if they themselves were less than such).
> 
>  _gott im himmel_ – german for the phrase 'god in heaven'; I'm pretty sure it sounds hot in every language in the heat of the moment.
> 
>  _ó istenem_ – hungarian for 'oh my god'; another one guaranteed to make everything during sex at least three hundred percent dirtier.
> 
>  _poroszország_ – the hungarian name for 'prussia'.
> 
>  _ausztria_ – the hungarian name for 'austria'.


End file.
